


Cracks and Coping Mechanisms.

by EbbaTriesToWrite



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Asexual Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Asexual Character, Booker | Sebastien le Livre-centric, Coming Out, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, there's a kind stripper in this uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26615134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbbaTriesToWrite/pseuds/EbbaTriesToWrite
Summary: People didn’t really talk about sex in the time Booker grew up in. Well, there had been the occasional overheard conversation at bars or the soldiers talking about what they missed about being back in France - be it their wives, mistresses or the brothels. But it made sense that Booker found himself uncomfortable listening to it, his fidgeting fingers or the tapping of his foot was simply due to the fact that he wasn’t meant to hear these things in the first place.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Everyone
Comments: 33
Kudos: 197





	Cracks and Coping Mechanisms.

People didn’t really talk about sex in the time Booker grew up in. Well, there had been the occasional overheard conversation at bars or the soldiers talking about what they missed about being back in France - be it their wives, mistresses or the brothels. But it made sense that Booker found himself uncomfortable listening to it, his fidgeting fingers or the tapping of his foot was simply due to the fact that he wasn’t meant to hear these things in the first place. 

The first night with his wife had been intimate but he felt ashamed when Cecile had to take the lead. He had thought he’d seen disappointment in her eyes after but she kissed his cheek softly after they were done and curled up with her head on his chest as they talked about their love and their future well into morning. He found that she didn’t really mind that he wasn’t like other men and was simply grateful that they made three beautiful children together. And he was too, despite the weird feeling in his gut each time they went to bed together with intention, and despite the nausea that always filled him after the act was done. 

It wasn’t all bad though, Cecile seemed to understand it more than Booker did himself and she’d always assure him that the way he loved was more than enough for her. When she passed, he knew he’d never find someone like that again. But it didn’t matter, he didn’t want anyone to replace her. 

When he finally found himself with a new family after he lost his first, he had been completely broken. He still is, but the cracks are less gaping than they were, no longer allowing too much of the surrounding pain of the world in. Some still seeps into him but it’s nothing that a few glasses of whiskey can’t sanitize for the night. And sometimes the cracks shift, widen and deepen but he’s learning how to deal with it. 

There are some parts of himself that he knows will never fully heal and if he’s honest, he wants it to stay that way. The others tell him they don’t remember their families faces, or even their personalities, anymore and he doesn’t want to forget, no matter how much it hurts. 

The others don’t seem to get it though. They’re all so filled with purpose whereas he’s simply not, he doesn’t see the point when they tell him the only way is onwards but he still follows them. They tell him not to drink after missions go wrong, that he needs to feel it, all of it. Booker scoffs and takes another swig because if he keeps feeling it, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to join them on the next job. 

_ “Maybe you need another coping mechanism.” Andy suggested, ironic given the bottle of rum in her hand, “When’s the last time you spent the night with someone?” _

_ Booker tensed up and Andy’s eyes sparkled as if she'd hit the jackpot and she raised a brow, a silent order for him to answer, “Not since my wife.”  _

_ Andy whistled and shook her head, “That’s almost - what - seventy years now?” _

She started to set him up with people relentlessly after that and of course Joe and Nicky caught wind of what she was up to and decided to help out too. They wiggled their brows at him each time he came home after a night that they declared a success, never once seeming to notice how Booker always took a longer shower after those nights. One small perk of their enhanced healing was that they didn’t see the redness or splotches of blood from how he’d scrub his skin raw, unable to really feel clean. 

On one of the few nights that the couple had joined him and Andy for a few drinks they had drunkenly invited him into bed with them and they’d scolded him when it made him choke on his drink as he wheezed out that the thought made him sick. He hadn’t meant to sound homophobic but it had been the truth, he apologized nontheless, it didn’t matter what his intention had been, he still hurt them. 

And wasn’t that tragic? That that remained something integral of his relationship with them all. He didn’t intend to hurt them, yet he still did. Over and over and  _ over  _ again. Sometimes it was small things, like when they found him after a particularly bad night and their expressions became pinched tight as they cleaned him up. Or when he became angry with the world and lashed out at them with his words and his fists, his cracks widening as they told him to stop and then closing up when he saw the tears in their eyes. The cracks never closed completely though. 

Sometimes it wasn’t small things. Sometimes it was things that couldn’t be brushed off with an apology and a false promise to do better, and instead he was left by a river and told he had a century until he could see them again. 

_ “Have a little faith, Book.”  _

He should have known that he ought to have believed her. It doesn’t feel right to be back with the others so soon but he will take this over the loneliness. Quynh and Andy being reunited makes at least one of his cracks close up completely but the one in which his wife lingers, that one deepens a bit, just as it did when he first saw Joe and Nicky together. But there’s a difference between the cracks growing deeper and growing wider. Deeper just means it feels  _ more,  _ whereas wider means that it’s spreading, affecting the very structure of himself and tugs at the other cracks. Deeper is better, even though it hurts.

“Oh god.” Nile groans as she sits down next to him out on the patio and he raises a brow in question, “I thought Joe and Nicky were bad,” she gestures at his flask and he chuckles as he hands it over, “Those two might be even worse.” 

“Cut them some slack,” he says even as he almost desperately takes a swig when she hands his flask back, “They deserve this after five-hundred years apart.”

“I know that.” she says softly, eyes glazing over for a moment before they clear up again, “But at least you don’t have to sleep wall to wall to them. They’re  _ loud.  _ ‘Oh Andromache! Right there.’” she pitches her voice as if trying to imitate Quynh, grinning after, expecting him to laugh.

And so he does but it doesn’t sound right and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat as she narrows her eyes at him. He doesn’t know what she’s trying to see but she seems none the wiser by the time she leans back in her chair to look at the view instead. He hates when people look at him for too long, it makes him feel too exposed, almost naked, and it makes his skin crawl.

He takes another swig from his flask, there’s only a little bit left and he taps Nile’s arm with it and she gratefully drinks the rest, her nose scrunching up adorably at the taste and he briefly wonders how long it will take for her to get used to it. He hopes it won’t be as quickly as it was for him and he’s pretty sure it won’t. She doesn’t have as many cracks that need smoothing of their edges. 

“It’s kind of hot though.” Nile says after a while, “Does that make me a pervert?” 

“I wouldn’t know.” 

She glances at him, brows furrowed, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I-” he pauses, unsure, the words had just slipped out, “I don’t know.” 

“You’re weird.” Nile scoffs and Booker nods, he knows he is. 

They go to Amsterdam next, apparently Nile hasn’t been yet and she mumbles the admision that she’s wanted to go since she read  _ The Fault in Our Stars.  _ It’s nice, to see her so excited about things and he regrets that he never was when he first experienced things. They go to the historical sights and tell her and Quynh about the things they remember from those times, and they listen intently, one of them fascinated and the other with sadness in her eyes. But then Andy buys her a bouquet of tulips and she brightens instantly. Quynh is admirably strong, Booker has realised, and he’s so glad that she’s able to be happy still and so utterly ashamed of himself that he cannot be. 

On the second night there Nile pulls him into her hotel room and holds out a cupcake with a mischievous glint in her eyes. He laughs and grabs her arm to pull him into the other room, where the others are already munching away on an array of edibles. Nile gapes at the sight but regains her bearings quickly and throws herself down in one of the armchairs and takes a bite of her cupcake. 

Booker gratefully takes the one she offers him as he settles on the couch next to Joe. The others are already a bit high, he can tell by the rosieness of their cheeks and the distant looks in their eyes. They giggle as they talk about nothing and everything and Booker isn’t sure how much time has passed but at some point Quynh had climbed onto Andy’s lap, kissing up her neck, causing her to let out barely contained moans. 

He leans his head back and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the familiar jittery feeling running up his spine. He hates it, he wishes he could join Joe and Nicky in their wolf whistles and playful teasing, because he  _ should.  _ But he can’t, it makes him uncomfortable to see it and he wishes they’d keep it private like they usually did. The thought makes him angry with himself, he should be happy that they get to have this but he can never quite understand it. Whenever he was on the receiving end of such attention he just wanted the ground to swallow him whole just so he could get away. He still hasn’t figured out why that particular crack of his runs so deep. 

“Oh my god!” Nile exclaims, frustration and amusement mingling in a chuckle, “How do you take this Booker? I feel so fuckin pent up!” 

“Just don’t look.” he mumbles and hears Joe bark a laugh.

“He wouldn’t know what to do otherwise.” Nicky chuckles and reaches out over Joe to poke his thigh teasingly, “He’s terrible at picking up ladies.”

“We’ve had to do the heavy lifting for him all these years.” Andy says and Booker dares open his eyes and fortunately Quynh has climbed off her lap and is resting her head on her shoulder instead, smiling dopely

“Hey Book,” Joe says suddenly, “do you like guys?” 

“I-” his mouth feels dry all of the sudden, and it isn’t just cotton mouth, it doesn’t feel right to deny it but confirming it doesn’t either, “It doesn’t matter.” he settles on instead. 

He kind of tunes out of the conversation after that and he’s relieved that the others are under the influence right now, he doesn’t think they’d let it go otherwise. They’re always trying to figure him out and he knows it’s his own fault for being so closed off but he doesn’t have the answers they’re looking for. He’s made up of splintered pieces barely held together and he doesn’t know how to explain any of it. 

Joe suddenly pulls him off the couch and slings his arm around his waist as he pulls him along, telling him they’re all going to have fun tonight. Andy pushes a candy between his lips right before they head out and his head goes even more fuzzy. It’s nice and the others laugh, he probably looks as ridiculous as the rest of them do, stumbling around, unable to really stay focused on one thing. 

He comes back to himself when his vision suddenly goes red - and not in the metaphorical sense - and he gulps as he’s pulled into one of the clubs. It instantly feels like too much but the others are smiling too widely for him to say anything. Nile glances around all wide eyed and he thinks she looks innocent. He scoffs at himself when he’s shoved into a booth because the table has a stripper pole in the centre of it, no one here could possibly be innocent. 

A barely clad woman climbs onto the table shortly after they’re given their drinks and Booker lets his eyes travel behind her as a distraction but it doesn’t really help. He hears the other whoop and holler but he doesn’t join in even though he can feel them looking at him every once in a while. She gets on her hands and knees and Nicky beckons for her to get closer to whisper something in her ear and she nods and turns her attention to Booker. 

“Why don’t you come with me?” her voice is sultry and the corner of her lip tugs upwards teasingly.

“I’m good.” he forces out and swallows thickly, shaking his head when Nile starts to get out of the booth to let him out, “No really, I’m good.” he tries to insist but Andy is pushing him out and he feels too out of it to really resist. 

The woman links her arm with his and pulls him further into the club and down a hallway, her free hand massaging his upper arm as she’s telling him something but he can’t focus. Soon enough they’re in a private room, there’s a large bed with satin sheets but the woman fortunately forces him onto the couch in the corner instead and he gulps as she gets on her knees in front of him. 

“Let’s have some fun shall we?” she smirks and her hands trail up his legs and towards his belt buckle and that is what finally makes him snap out of his stupor and he grabs her hands, making sure not to do it too harshly, “Oh,” she gasps and her smile widens further, “you want a bit of foreplay, I take it?”

His mouth is too dry for him to speak but she takes his silence as a confirmation and stands up before straddling his legs, leaning back to uncuff her bra. She lets the strap fall off one shoulder, and then the next, before throwing it behind her.

“Stop.” he whispers weakly but she’s close enough to hear it. 

“Oh come on honey,” she leans in closer, her breath is hot on his neck and her hands fall to rest on his chest, “you know you want it.” 

“I’ll pay you, just-” he forces out and tries to look at anything but her, “please stop.” 

“Your friend was quite insistent that you needed this.” she pulls back and the smile has finally slipped off her face, she looks concerned now, “Are you gay?” 

He starts to shake his head but then stops, because just like before, it doesn’t feel right, “I don’t know.” he says hopelessly and she finally gets off of him.

She pulls open the closet door and slips on a robe, smiling apologetically as she slinks down next to him on the couch, not touching him. It’s embarrassing how much of a relief that is.

“Talk to me darlin’.” she says but it’s more of a request than a demand and for some reason she feels safe, understanding, a bit like Cecile and the thought makes his eyes water.

“I just-” he swallows around the lump in his throat and thinks  _ fuck it  _ he’ll never see this woman again, what could it hurt to tell her? “I just don’t like being touched. In that way, I mean.”

“Oh,” she says and leans back a little, smiling softly, “you haven’t come out to your friends yet?” 

“Come out?” he echoes dumbly. 

“Oh honey,” she looks so sad, “it sounds to me like you’re asexual.” 

“A-sex-ual?” he tastes the word on his tongue, unsure of what it means.

Her eyes soften and she pouts a little, the pity in her gaze makes him want to hide but it also feels nice, in some weird way. 

“It essentially means that you’re not sexually attracted to people.”

“I had a wife.” he blurts, “and three sons,” 

“You can still be romantically attracted to people.” she chuckles but it’s a nice sound, he doesn’t think she’s making fun of him, “Can I ask you something?”

“Uh-” he hesitates, “sure.”

“Did you enjoy having sex with her?” 

He thinks back to their times together, of how ashamed he felt when it took ages for him to get worked up enough for them to do it, of how she’d be quick and gentle and then curl up next to him, whispering sweet nothings into the darkness of their room. He didn’t enjoy the sex, but he enjoyed her closeness, and he enjoyed seeing her be pleasured but he didn’t feel it himself. His chest aches and presses the balls of his palms into his eyes when they start to tear up, he misses her so much. 

“No.”he expects Cecile’s crack to deepen but it stays the same, “I didn’t enjoy it.” 

The woman grabs his hands gently and pulls them down, a sad but comforting smile on her lips as she reaches out to cup his face and wipes his tears with her thumbs, he can’t help but lean into the touch, “It’s okay.” she whispers, “You’re not the only one.” 

She tells him some more about asexuality but encourages him to look into it more on his own and he promises her that he will. There’s still half an hour left of their session and she seems to understand that he doesn’t want to leave early. It’s not that he thinks the others will be embarrassed for him but they always look so pleased with themselves when they feel they’ve given him something and he doesn’t want to take that away from them. 

When the time is up the woman - Thea, he learnt her name was - pulls him up and quickly unbuttons a few of the buttons on his shirt and reaches up to ruffle his hair, smirking a little at his confusion, “Gotta make it look at least somewhat believable.” 

“Thanks.” he snorts and goes for the door but a hand on his wrist stops him

“You don’t have to tell anyone until you’re ready. Even if that’s never.” she says seriously and he nods, “And don’t force yourself to do anything you’re not comfortable with. You deserve boundaries and there’s nothing wrong with you, promise me you’ll remember that?”

“Yeah,” he feels a bit choked up, “I promise. Thank you.”

He finds the others at the same booth he left them in, there are more drinks on the table and Nile is nowhere to be seen. Joe tells him she found someone to hook up with when he asks about it and he nods understandingly, ignoring their inquiries if he’d had fun. Instead, he tells them he’s tired and that he’ll go back to the hotel and fortunately it isn’t a complete lie. 

The fuzziness from the weed has long since left his system but everything still feels a bit hazy around the edges. He takes a quick shower and curls up under the covers but sleep evades him despite the exhaustion settled in his bones and he grabs his phone, debating with himself for a moment before remembering that he’d promised Thea.

He searches up definitions and stories of people identifying as asexual and he feels a crack mend itself ever so sligthly. Some of the stories he finds he relates to while others don’t fit him perfectly and he’s unsure if the label is the correct one for him, maybe Thea was wrong. But then he finds someone talking about how it’s a spectrum, that there’s not a set of requirements to fill in order to identify as asexual and it feels like permission. 

He falls asleep fast after that, for once not feeling like he’s a flawed man. Or well, at least not flawed in this aspect of himself, there are plenty of other things that are wrong with him but maybe, just maybe, this part of himself isn’t. 

Not much changes after that night but Booker feels more comfortable in his own skin now. He wants to talk to the others about it but he can never muster up the courage to do so, and besides, it’s not like they really need to know. 

Until they do. They’re grabbing a drink at a pub in Berlin when Nile suddenly elbows him in the side and nearly makes him spill all over himself. She at least has the decency to look a bit apologetic before she nods her head towards the bar and he looks over. There’s a woman there and when they meet each other's eyes she blushes and winks at him, holding up her drink and gestures for him to come join her. He shakes his head and looks away, Nile groans beside him. 

“Dude, come on!” she whispers a yell, “She’s been eyeing you up since we got here.”

“She has.” Andy cuts in with a smirk, “Do you need me to talk to her for you?” 

“It’s fine.” 

“You’re hopeless.” Nicky chuckles, “You need to learn to let loose more often.” 

“I’d rather not.” his heart is pounding in his chest and he almost worries that the others can hear it. This is the opportunity he’s been waiting for, “I’ve figured something out,” he blurts out before he can talk himself down from saying anything, “about myself.” he adds weakly, and watches as his drink sloshes around in the glass as he fiddles with it. 

“Yeah?” Nile prompts when he struggles to find the words, “What is it?”

“I uh-” he licks his lips, “I’m asexual.” 

“Oh,” Andy says, “okay.” 

They seem to realise he doesn’t want to delve deeper into it and Joe expertly turns the conversation elsewhere, Booker appreciates it but his heart is still beating a bit too fast for his comfort. He excuses himself to get some air and leans heavily against the brick wall outside, letting his eyes fall shut. The evening chill feels nice on his skin and he finds that he doesn’t really mind the cigarette smoke that lingers in the air. He feels several presences around him after a while and finds Andy to his right, Nicky to his left and Joe right in front of him. 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Nicky asks, sounding a bit hurt and Booker hates how familiar it is. 

“I didn’t even know what it was. I just thought something was wrong with me. I mean, what’s another thing to add on the list, right?” he tries to joke but it doesn’t land right apparently because Joe makes an almost wounded sound, “It’s hard to explain something you don’t have a name for.” 

“But all the times that we-” Andy starts and when Booker looks over at her, she tears her gaze away, a telltale sign of her feeling guilty, “All the times we set you up, did you-” she curses under her breath, “did you ever want it?”

He wants to lie, if only to make them look less upset but he knows they wouldn’t want him to, and so he goes for the truth, “No.” 

“Shit.” Nicky mutters, “I’m sorry Booker.” 

“It’s okay.” he tries to smile, “You didn’t know.” 

“Still-” 

“I didn’t even know.” Booker interrupts what would surely be a too long and too angsty monologue from Joe, “I’m not good with boundaries and that’s not on you, I’m working on it though.” he pats Joe’s arm and smiles, it feels a bit more real this time, “Hence why I told you guys.” 

“Thank you for that.” Nicky says softly, “I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t tell us before but I’m glad you do now.” 

“Yeah, what he said.” Andy mumbles and Booker can’t help but laugh at the awkwardness and the others follow suit. 

“Let's go back inside.” Booker says once he gets his laughter under control and he leans into Joe when he slings an arm around his shoulder, feeling much lighter on his feet now. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Also! Pls come talk to me on Tumblr (I need friends):  
> [EbbaTriesToWrite](https://ebbatriestowrite.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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